


If I Save You, Will You Save Me?

by psychedoutpineapple



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Mostly Fluff, S1E4, the start of something new, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 18:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychedoutpineapple/pseuds/psychedoutpineapple
Summary: Anne's plan to help put out the Gillis' fire goes terribly wrong, and Gilbert does his best to save her.Set during episode 01x04, but written as what could have happened if Anne had not been able to make it out of the house. Slight angst I suppose, though happy ending.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	If I Save You, Will You Save Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, friends. I have been obsessed (and I mean OBSESSED) with Anne and Gilbert lately, and there are simply not enough fics to keep me satiated. So I had to make my own.
> 
> That said, this is my first story in a long, long time, and it is my first AO3 writing ever, so please be gentle! I would love constructive criticism, but go easy on me heh.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

The whole world seemed to shake with intensity and fervor, the warm reds of the flames dancing off of the water droplets frantically being hurled onto the Gillis household. Anne stared in pure astonishment as she walked quickly towards the ablaze house, her heart twinging as she thought of Ruby and her family. She walked a little faster, the two buckets of water in her hands swinging sloppily, spilling over slightly.

“Anne!”

It was Diana. Momentarily distracted from the chaotic scene unfolding around her, Anne tightly hugged her bosom friend, cherishing the warmth from her embrace. The joy was short lived as the two girls swung around upon hearing a sharp splintering of glass from the home’s windows.

The two girls stood close, staring at the bright embers, listening to the men calling out orders to each other. If it were not so destructive and cruel, Anne thought, it may have been beautiful. The night was lit up in a glowing crimson haze, and the stars twinkling above the town seemed to wave down at the fire who waved right back.

Shaking her mind out of such romantical and inconvenient thoughts, Anne realized something.

“Why are the doors and windows open?” she muttered to herself, panic starting to settle in the pit of her stomach. Her palms felt sweaty, and she knew that it was not only from the heat of the fire. She knew she had to do something.

Without a second thought, Anne pivoted swiftly, running as fast as she could to grab a blanket and soak it in water. She then ran even faster straight toward the flickering flames, ignoring the calls of protest she vaguely heard from Diana behind her. She knew what had to be done and there was no time to explain it to anyone else. It had to be her.

.

He could not stop thinking about how hot he was, how unsavory the sweat trickling down his back felt. In the days to come, Gilbert would look back and wonder how something so trivial could even float through his mind in such a frenzied time, though he figured it must have kept his mind off of the danger he had put himself in, standing on the roof of a burning house, with only a bucket of water as his defense.

He worked hurriedly, his mind rather still, fairly clear. He wondered when it would all be over and he could just go home.

Gilbert glanced up in an attempt to assess the flames, but he was startled as he saw a shadow sped by the room’s open door. His clear mind was instantly clouded with worry and apprehension as he leaned over, struggling to better comprehend what had just happened. He faintly heard coughing, but was it coming from inside the house or were these delusions from the smoke he’d been inhaling and the heat he’d been enduring?

He barely had time to register these thoughts in his head when the shadow returned. This time the shadow had captivating red hair.

“Anne!” Gilbert cried.

She glanced up, her determined gray eyes growing weaker in the scarlet glow. Everything seemed to slow down as she looked into his alarmed eyes. He heard Diana and Marilla hysterically screaming from behind him, and his stomach sank promptly when he saw her eyes flutter, the grip on the blanket she was carrying loosening.

In the next moment, Anne collapsed on the ground, roaring flames encircling her.

.

He could not tell you how it happened, how they’d gotten there. How he had somehow managed to spring through the window, diving through the burning inferno. How he had been able to breathe as he frantically reached for her in the scorched room. How he had held her close as the floor beneath their feet gave way, sending them both rushing through the air towards the hard ground.

He didn’t remember anything before right now, lying on the hard floor and holding an unconscious Anne in one arm. His other would not move out from under the weight of his body. In the back of his mind, Gilbert reasoned that it was most likely broken, but he focused on her face. He couldn’t let her die, he had to get her out of this burning house.

His breathing was slowing, his throat clouded up with smoke. Gilbert could feel his eyes water up, though he felt as the tears evaporated into the heat of the flames. He couldn’t move, his body was too tired, and his thoughts were fading into the night. He’d killed her, Gilbert thought. This incredible girl that he would never earn the chance to truly know. How great their friendship could have been, how much better school and life would have been with Anne there.

As Gilbert’s eyes fluttered shut, he pondered her red hair and how it radiated far brighter than the flames surrounding them. His last thoughts before succumbing to exhaustion and smoke inhalation were of broken slates and fiery braids.

.

Her whole body ached and throbbed, and she felt as if a giant had stepped on her before moving away. As she forced her eyes to open and absorbed the flaming rubble around her, she briefly accepted this fantastical explanation as truth..

Shifting slightly, she noticed a human shaped blob in front of her, and she realized that the blob’s hand was draped over her waist, as if it were trying (though currently failing) to protect her from the blazing house. The flames moved, lighting up the blob’s face. It was Gilbert.

If the realization that the two were sitting broken and injured in a burning, collapsing house had not come to her at that moment, she may have gasped, wondering how she could have been so cruel to a boy that appeared so kindhearted and gentle. Instead, she compelled her body to sit up, ignoring the sharp pains that struck her entire body as she did so. She’d encountered similar pains and afflictions from unfortunate encounters at the orphanage, and she’d learned to greatly disregard them. For now, she had to get them out of there.

Grabbing Gilbert’s free arm, Anne dragged his body upwards, eventually draping his arm over her shoulder. It took all of the power she had left in her system to stand the two of them up, Gilbert’s body weight leaning against her thin frame.

_ I really should eat more _ , she thought to herself as she struggled to drag Gilbert and herself to an opening in the wall.

Her throat was burning, her eyes stinging. Her body had never felt weaker in her entire life. She wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees, and to let her and Gilbert be consumed by the hungry flames that gnawed at their toes, at their hands. With one glance down at Gilbert’s face, though, her determination restored, and she pushed forward with the last remaining strength she possessed.

Her left shoe must have fallen off in the uproar, because, after what felt like an eternity, her foot finally squished into soft, damp grass. Taking one last step, Anne felt Gilbert slip out of her grasp, releasing the tight clasp she’d had on his arms. The two of them fell face down into the wet grass, and she faintly heard Marilla screaming as she allowed herself to sleep again.

.

The light was far too bright. Usually thrilled to see the brilliant morning sunshine, Anne now grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut in protest. She wondered what time it was, and why Marilla hadn’t yelled at her to get out of bed yet. Her train of thought was interrupted by an excited gasp.

“Anne!” the voice shrieked. “You’re awake! Matthew, she’s awake!”

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Anne moaned in response. “What’s the big deal, Maril- AH!”

As she spoke, Anne reached up to rub her eyes with one hand, leaning on the other to sit up. Both arms felt as if they’d each been stabbed by 100 knives. 

“Anne, are you alright? What’s the matter?”

“What on earth?” she muttered, distressfully.

Finally able to stand the brightness of the day, Anne looked into the eyes of a worried Marilla, her wrinkled hands covering her gaping mouth. Matthew stood in the doorframe, his face etched with great concern.

Marilla’s hands slowly made their way into her lap as she spoke softly, “Anne, do you remember what happened?”

“Remember what happened?” Anne asked. “Did I have a bad dream?”

“No, no, I’m afraid not,” Marilla looked down at her hands. “There was a fire at the Gillis’ last night and -”

The moment Marilla uttered the word “fire,” everything returned to Anne’s brain immediately. The fire, her plan. Her stupid, stupid plan that could have killed her. Gilbert! The fire, the plan, Gilbert. Gilbert.

“Gilbert!” she exclaimed, abruptly sitting up, though quickly regretting it as her face reflected the immense pain she felt throughout her body. “What happened, is he okay? Where is he?”

“Anne, dear, please calm down, don’t hurt yourself again,” Marilla urged.

“But Gilbert, where-”

“He’s alright,” Matthew assured from the doorway. “He’s alright. You saved him, Anne.”

Anne breathed out, releasing the fear she’d been holding. He was fine. They were fine. Injured and feeble, but fine. She laughed lightly, her ribs wincing in pain as she did so. She didn’t too much care, though. He was fine.

_ That idiot boy _ , she thought to herself as Marilla began to gently reproach her for her rash decisions the night before.  _ He could have gotten us killed. _

.

Three days had passed since the Gillis’ fire, and Anne was finally able to walk, albeit slowly, around Green Gables. Marilla would not let her help with daily chores, instead reprimanding her anytime she bent the wrong way or moved too quickly. Anne prayed for a quick recovery so she would not cause such a burden for Matthew and Marilla.

As Anne sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the sun lazily fading over the horizon and tapping her fingers rhythmically on her leg, she let her mind wander to a raven-haired boy. Besides being told that he was fine and on his way to recovery, no one had given her any more information about Gilbert and his recovery. Was he well? Was he hurting? Was he angry at her?

Her fingers stopped mid-tap. Was he angry with her? After all, it had been her foolish and unsuccessful plan that resulted in this mess and his injuries. Oh, he was definitely mad at her.

She hopped off of her bed, ignoring the stinging pain that nipped at her knees. Her pain was invalid if he was in pain as a consequence of something she had done. Anne knew she needed to fix this, and soon. Three days was all too much, and she was not about to make it four.

Knowing Marilla would never let her leave the house in her state, she impatiently waited until the sun had dipped below the surface of the earth, and she’d heard the doors gently shut down the hall, indicating that her guardians had retired to bed.

She opened the door as quietly as she could muster, and then tiptoed down the hall to the stairs. Skipping the creaky third stair, she softly made it to the first floor, grabbing her coat on the way out of the house.

The night was still, like the night of the fire, but much darker without the glowing embers illuminating the twilight sky. Anne found herself lost in thought as she made her way toward the Blythe household, everything catching her attention. Without being able to wander the outdoors the last few days, Anne’s mind cherished this time to explore the woods and feel the cool night air on her fair skin. Not even her fractured bones and creaky knees could ruin the joy she felt on her journey.

It wasn’t until she stood directly in front of Gilbert’s home that she realized what she was about to do. Anne paused, wondering if she’d even be welcome in the threshold. Maybe he’d shout at her to go away. After all, she didn’t deserve to be there. In the small amount of time they’d known each other, she had already managed to run away from him, smack him over the head with a slate, and nearly killed him in a house fire. If their roles were reversed, Anne knew she would never let him near her.

Considering all of this almost made Anne turn back, but the worry growing in her gut pressured her to persevere. If he yelled at her, she would simply be getting what she deserved.

Mustering up the same courage it had taken her to run into the fire, Anne knocked softly on the door, just then realizing how late in the night it was. A couple moments passed without any noise coming from within the house. Anne stood rigid in front of the wooden door, the silence of the night and the house swallowing her.

Just as she made the decision to turn and run (or walk as fast as she could on crippled legs), the door swung open.

“I’m sorry for the delay, is everything alri- Anne?” It was Gilbert, a startled look on his face.

Anne stood looking at him, her mouth slightly parted, words unable to escape her lips. For once, she was speechless, not a single word coming to mind besides the one she hastily blurted out.

“Idiot!”

“What?” Gilbert questioned, one eyebrow raised.

“An idiot, I, um,” she exclaimed again, shaking her head as to try to stir some new words loose. “I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, um,” he replied, his other eyebrows joining the first high up on his head. “Won’t you come in?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

Anne rushed in, mentally hitting herself.  _ Get it together, Shirley _ , she thought. Immediately upon entering the hall, Anne pivoted and began rambling the words that had finally made their way back to her.

“Gilbert, I am so very sorry for everything, I could have killed you with my foolish actions, and though you infuriate me so, I would have never meant to hurt you in any way! Although, I suppose that is exactly what I keep doing, isn’t it? I attack you at the schoolhouse with my slate only because of some silly girl codes, and I never explained what was going on, I simply was trying to make friends. _And_ _then_ I nearly kill you by running into a burning building, however heroic it may have seemed at the time. You deserve to be vexed and unforgiving, and I will not object to any admonishment or judgement you deem suitable for the situation.

“In short, I am incredibly sorry for how inconsiderate I have been to you and your wellbeing ever since our first meeting, and I sincerely hope you can forgive all of my awful and vile transgressions.”

She spoke in one breath, her cheeks turning violently pink, her hands slightly shaking as she ran out of breath. At the conclusion of her monologue, Anne had seen how shocked Gilbert seemed as he watched her, and she’d promptly turned her eyes down to the floor. Now came the yelling and the anger, the well-deserved punishment she would have to endure.

Instead of shouting, Anne was perplexed as he let out a small chuckle that turned into a full on laugh. Her mouth hung open as she watched him lean up against a wall, holding his side giggling to himself.

“Anne, I,” he started, interrupting himself by laughing again. “I’m not angry. You do not have to apologize to me. I’m the one who should be apologizing, I screwed up the rescue!”

“You’re the one who should be apologizing?” she responded incredulously. “I certainly think not!”

He chuckled again before responding. “Ok, well, regardless. I have no anger or vexation toward you in any way, for any previous event that has taken place. I’m just glad that you are safe.”

“And I you,” Anne managed, still amazed that Gilbert could forgive her behavior so effortlessly.

“I apologize for not visiting Green Gables the last few days. I, uh, just have been busy around here, you know, so…” he trailed off, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck restlessly.

“I completely understand, you’ll have needed to tend to your injuries as I’ve had to. There is no need to apologize.”

“Yeah, right,” he replied slowly.

As he responded, Anne noticed the lack of any observable injury other than a makeshift bandage wrapped around his left arm. He seemed to be walking and moving fine, so maybe he wasn’t that injured after all. Maybe he simply did not want to visit her at Green Gables? Even if she was forgiven, it would still be understandable that he did not want to make the effort to travel all that way.

They stood in silence for a moment or two until a cough from a room down the hall made them both jump. Anne looked from Gilbert’s uneasy expression to the door and then back to Gilbert.

He cleared his throat before explaining. “That’s, uh, that’s my father. He has a bit of a...cold. Something like that.”

Any thought of Gilbert avoiding her the past three days departed from her mind at these words. His father was simply sick, and despite any injuries he may have sustained from the fire, he was acting as a good son and tending to his needs. She sighed a breath of relief.

“I’m sorry, I hope he feels better soon,” she said.

Gilbert stared at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yeah, me too,” he finally said.

Anne teetered back and forth on her feet, fiddling with her coat. “Well, I guess I should go before Marilla discovers I’ve gone.”

The strange look on Gilbert’s face vanished at these words, and he laughed again.

Shaking his head slightly, his hazel eyes twinkling, he replied, “I suppose you should. Thank you for paying a visit to me.”

“Of course,” Anne said. “I am glad you are alright, and I really am sorry.”

“No apology necessary,” Gilbert responded good-humoredly. “I’ll slay a dragon for you anytime you need.”

Wanting to make it to Green Gables quickly, her legs feeling weak after the excess standing and walking that Marilla had warned her about, Anne simply nodded as she scurried out of the door Gilbert held open. Without turning around, she lifted her hand up in a wave and hastened down the path towards home, her thoughts once again preoccupying her mind.

_ I’m rather sure that I was the one who slayed the dragon _ , she thought to herself.  _ That idiot boy _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story! I apologize if there are any medical or historical inaccuracies anywhere within there, I wrote this fairly quickly without really fact checking or anything like that.
> 
> I hope to write more stories in the time to come, so let me know if there is anything you'd love to read!
> 
> That's all I can think of to say besides thanks for reading, and have a wonderful, Shirbert-filled day:)


End file.
